


Pirates & The Sea

by imnotmadeofeyes



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Canon Divergence, Episode 4.02, First Kiss, Grief, Loss, M/M, Mourning, Revelations, Season/Series 04, Silver does drown, or 4.03?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 18:31:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11950149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imnotmadeofeyes/pseuds/imnotmadeofeyes
Summary: Believing that he had yet again failed to rescue his loved one, James Flint mourns the death of John Silver - only to find out that John has not drowned at all.





	Pirates & The Sea

**Author's Note:**

> I started watching because of FlintHamilton. I finished it because of SilverFlint. Oh. My. Goddess.
> 
> I always imagined this "What if ..." so I decided to write it. I cannot clearly remember how everything happened, but it's canon divergence anyways, so whatever.

The second James saw John falling, time seemed to slow down. Of course, he realised what was happening. He realised that the canon had ripped the ropes from the carcass of the ship, barrelling into the water and pulling it down, down, down. He realised that John wasn’t getting off, unable to separate himself from the ropes – though James didn’t know why. His heart stopped, even though his muscles were screaming for more oxygen to work right, and everything in his body screamed to jump after him. There must be a way to get him out. But the moment he stood to his feet, his coat already pulled halfway down his arms, the shots started aiming for his head, and people reached for him, pulled him down into cover.

They were right, the people scolding him: he was the captain of a huge crew, he couldn’t afford risking his life over one of them – no matter how much John was worth, no matter how much John meant to him. James’ eyes kept searching the water, hesitating over every dark head only to see that said head did not belong to the one man he was searching for. If you had told him in the beginning, months ago, that John Silver would become his closest friend and that he would risk his life for him, he would have called you insane. How could he believe that a burglar and a liar would be the quartermaster of his crew and the most able person he’s ever met? But now here he was, sitting in the longboat with his heart aching because he – again – was unable to save that one person that mattered the most to him.

James didn’t allow himself to think like that. Right now, this was a massacre, and his crew had split up in chaotic little groups. The longboats were overcrowded, other shipmates clinging to floating bits and pieces of the shipwreck, hoping to survive long enough to reach the beach in some manner. Maybe John was one of them. Maybe he was already in another longboat, because he had been able to get up. Captain Flint had other responsibilities now; he couldn’t get hung up over John. They reached the shore, watched the burning Walrus, took care of the other men, got them to safety.

But it wasn’t long before James found himself on the shore again, watching the sea and the last longboats arriving. Madi stood by his side. The Maroon queen looked shaken up, but it was still obvious how beautiful and strong she was – he could understand why John seemed so infatuated with her.

“This is the last longboat” she told him, and he understood the implication. This is our last chance of John reaching the shore. He swallowed hard, nodded. He was not able to communicate his thoughts to her – he knew she didn’t trust him, and while their alliance was strong, their connection was not. So they watched the boat reaching the beach in silence, watched the men on there get off. There was talk of a man they rescued that had almost drowned and they had just barely been able to rescue him.

James hadn’t realised he was holding his breath, he only noticed when he felt like all air had been punched from his lungs once the longboat was empty. The unconscious man they had rescued was not John. John was not with them anymore. And a part of James had known – somehow, John had gotten tangled and had not been able to save himself. But the bigger part of him had lived in denial, had hoped with everything he had that John would be found, saved; brought back to him.

 

The next few days seemed to go by in a haze. James knew the numbness that had taken a hold of him so well, he had lived with it for years – and he hadn’t even noticed that it had gone, until it took hold of him again now. Thinking about it, it had stopped when John and he had grown close. He hadn’t noticed, because like so many things with John, it had changed gradually, and before he knew, he had felt alive again. Alive with the knowledge that he had a man by his side who trusted him, who knew his demons but wasn’t afraid of him. Without John, he was just an empty shell, exploding with the smallest contact. The second evening back on the island, he found himself sitting in his hut and realising why that was: John had completed him in a way that neither Thomas nor Miranda had managed.

Drowning in those thoughts, those feelings, staring at the desk in front of him, he didn’t even notice that Madi had entered his makeshift shelter. The woman moved quietly, and he startled when she spoke to him.

“You loved him, didn’t you?” She sat in the chair in front of him, and he stared at her bewildered.

James didn’t know what to say, but he decided that she didn’t deserve being lied to. “I do” He was not yet ready to speak about John as if he was a part of his past, but not of his present. John was still part of his crew, and not just for James. He knew that, he saw it in the way the behaviour of the men changed after it got clear that their quartermaster would not return to them.

“Why did you let him drown?” Madi’s eyes watched him in that intense stare she had down. Hers were dark and his had been light, but James was still reminded of John through that stare.

“I can’t risk the lives of a hundred men for the life of one.” That was the reasonable answer.

Madi huffed, but she seemed to be content with that answer. She leaned back in the chair, crossed her legs. “I think he loved you, too.” She said after a while. “He would flirt with me, but whenever you were in the same room, his whole body seemed to pay attention to you.”

James couldn’t believe what she told him, shook his head, wished he still had hair on his head so he could ruffle it. Instead, he scratched over his bare scalp. His heart was aching. “I think he was infatuated with you.”

“Infatuation and love are two different things altogether.” She replied, and got up. “I just wanted you to know.” And she left him alone with that knowledge, even more confused and hurt than before.

 

A day or two later – Flint wasn’t sure, time dragged by in a blur to him – word reached the camp that there were men nearing; two, to be exact, pirates from their looks. Flint of course is one of the men to check them out: how couldn’t he? He’s the captain, he wouldn’t send men in danger without putting himself in danger as well. So he chose three men to accompany him and made his way over the rough path through the dunes. The sun shone right into his eyes, blinding him almost, if he were not already used to it. A part of him honestly hoped that those were Englishmen in disguise – part of him was more than ready to have it all end right now. His legacy, with John’s legacy together, would live on, would make the men fight on to liberate Nassau. But apparently, fate wouldn’t do that to him.

Later, James would claim that he recognized the man with only one and a half legs right away; that didn’t make it true. His heart did – doing loops and jumps in his chest while his eyes tried to focus on the figures far off. He wished for his looking glass, but nobody had one on them. It didn’t matter; they approached, and once the men saw them, they started straight in their direction, too. Only when they were maybe fifty or a hundred meters apart, it dawned on James.

He didn’t know the elderly man with the unruly ginger curls. But he knew that black head, and that crutch, and that hobbling walk. Again, his world slowed down, and his heart followed straight when John’s eyes landed on him. His breath caught in his throat, and suddenly he was afraid – terrified, even. Captain James Flint, the one who brought nothing but fear to the world, was overthrown by his own heart. He knew love, of course. He had shared a youthful, light love with Thomas, something warm and exciting; he had shared the love of two people who found shelter in each other with Miranda. But with John, it was a completely different thing. What he felt right in this moment was violent, destructive. It was like the ocean in a storm: catching him, throwing him off balance, threatening to kill him. And maybe, maybe John was right – maybe he would end up on the list of people that died because they loved James McGraw.

But maybe John Silver would also be the end of Captain Flint.

Before James could think, before he could make any rational decision, his legs started moving on his own accord, walking, jogging, running. John was there, and John was breathing and he was alive! How could he not? Suddenly, in that moment, things became clear to him: those that Madi had been talking about. He remembered how John and he moved through space when they were side by side, completely in synch; he remembered how those blue eyes had been watching him, always aware of where he was; he remembered lingering touches and stares and this yearning deep inside him that he hadn’t allowed himself to feel.

John was hobbling towards him, while their companions slowed and stood at some distance. And then, for the first time, James closed his arms around John, pulled him close, embraced him. The clutch clattered to the ground, but neither of them seemed to notice. James could smell the younger man, felt his beating heart, his breath, the strength in his arms as they closed around him. And he didn’t care that he might look weak because for the first time he got a second chance, a chance to make it better.

“What is this about, Captain?” John asked, separating from James, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

“I lost you” James answered, breathlessly, and to him, the distance between them was too much, far too much. “I thought you ended up another person that I loved and lost.”

There was a pause.

“You – love me?”

James couldn’t answer, only stare at John. He was dirty, sunburnt, and his hair was greasy. He soaked in every detail – he had feared he would forget about those little detail about that beautiful face that had aged so much in those few months at sea. He saw the confusion in John’s eyes, the wonder – and behind that, something else, something that has obviously been there for a while because it was familiar to James, comforting.

“You love me.”

“I did say so, didn’t I?”

And suddenly, he again had his arms full of John, for the second time that day, and this time John’s hands were cupping James’ face and he was kissing him, closed-eyed and open-mouthed. For a second, James was overwhelmed, couldn’t comprehend what was happening. And then his arms slung around John’s hips, and he pulled him impossibly closer. This was – it was different than it was with Thomas. Thomas had been butterflies and love and new experiences that were made carefully. John was harsh and forceful, scratching stubble and bruising touches as they embraced, and their kiss war desperate and deep, took the air from James’ lungs as the sea did when it swallowed him up.

When they separated, James kept John closed, cupped his cheek, pressed their foreheads together.

“You ain’t getting rid of me that easily” John said. James smiled.

No, he wouldn’t. Because John was his sea – and without the sea, a pirate was nothing but a madman.

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK!  
> It's my first fanfic in this fandom and I haven't written anything in a while, so please tell me what you think!


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